Surprise
by LumiOlivier
Summary: Yurio is always a little paranoid, but for some strange reason, today, his radar was up even more than usual. Especially when Yakov doesn't yell at him for missing a simple jump. (One-shot)


Something felt off about today. When Yurio woke up this morning, Victor and Yuri, who were normally being overly disgusting and lovey on the ice, were nowhere to be found. He wouldn't look that gift horse in the mouth, so he chalked that up as a win. At least the rink would be quiet and Yurio would have it all to himself. That is, until he became skeptical. Seeing it as just overthinking, Yurio wrote it off and got to practicing. Competitions didn't start until September, but he didn't want to lose the muscle.

He started simple with a couple of old routines from last season as a warm up. Light, easy movements. Yurio would hate himself if he injured himself before the season started. That would involve the rigmarole of horrendous physical therapists that were always either too rough with him or absolute perverts. But he couldn't think of that now. Too distracting.

Instead, he pulled out a routine that wasn't exactly his, but Yurio would make it his own. All Yurio could think about was how Yuri did it and how he wanted to make the choreography his. He knew he should've gotten Eros over Agape. Deep in the pit of his very soul. Besides, Yurio landed most of the jumps better than Yuri anyway. And he reveled in that. The little piggy from Japan groveled on his knees, begging Yurio to teach him quads. That thought alone was enough to drive his Eros performance home.

"Your last jump was sloppy," a voice thundered around the rink.

THUD!

Not only did Yurio miss his last jump, but he also thought falling face first onto the ice was a good idea. When the stars in his eyes went away and he could understand Yakov cursing heavily in Russian about how his champion could've just severely injured himself, he realized exactly who was critiquing his performance. And it made his cheeks turn a bright red. Yurio quickly recovered and skated over to the railing.

"Otabek," Yurio rubbed his eyes, "What are you doing here?"

"I can't see you in the off season?" Otabek handed him a tissue to wipe the blood from his nose.

"Yeah," Yurio averted his gaze, terrified to get lost in it, "So, my last jump was sloppy?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, "You over rotated. That's not like you, Yuri. Distracted?"

"No," Yurio brushed him off, "I'm perfectly fine."

"Maybe we should call it quits for the day," Yakov grumbled, still angry with Otabek for ruining it.

That's when Yurio knew there wasn't something right. Any other day, Yakov would've nearly crucified him for something like that. All of a sudden, he's had a sudden change of heart? In all the years Yurio had known Yakov, he had always been the angry, bitter coach (and that was mostly Victor's fault, from what he understood). Although, it did make him a little happy to see his Beka again.

Yurio kicked his skates off and left with Otabek, still confused and nervous over Yakov being so nice. Maybe he was dying. Yakov couldn't die now. Who would be Yurio's coach this upcoming season? Certainly not Victor. He was too busy with his boyfriend and his own skating career. And Yurio wasn't going to ask Otabek to give his career up to coach him. He'd rather share that podium with him.

"So," Otabek got the door for Yurio as the two of them slipped into a cafe downtown together, "Other than your practice, Yuri, what did you have planned for today?"

"Nothing," Yurio racked his brain. Aside from a day of practice and actively avoiding Victor and Yuri, who loved all over him like doting parents, Yurio's schedule for the day had been completely blank, "Why? Did you have something in mind?"

"I haven't seen much of Moscow in my travels," Otabek played with Yurio's long fingers, "Maybe you could show me. Getting a tour guide seems unnecessary when I know one that probably knows the city better than them."

"Sure," he nodded, "I do know this place like the back of my hand."

"Anything I should know?" he asked, "Anything I shouldn't do?"

"Rumor has it," Yurio got up with his hot tea in hand, "If you go to the bar and say you know some guy that doesn't really have a name, he's just known as the Machine, you'll get to drink for free."

"The Machine?" Otabek gave him a look, "Who's the Machine?"

"Hell, if I know," Yurio shrugged, "Like I said, it's just a rumor."

"You know," Otabek threw his arm around Yurio's waist, "Don't think I forgot about today."

"What's today?"

"You know what today is, Yuri," Otabek cradled Yurio's cheek in his palm, "What happened six months ago today?"

Of course, Yurio knew. Six months ago, he met and fell for a boy from Kazakhstan and could never forget something like that. Yurio slipped his fingers between Otabek's, "Has it been six months already?"

"It still feels like yesterday," Otabek pulled him closer, "Yuri Plisetsky. My little soldier."

"You know," Yurio blushed, "You're the only person that can get away with talking to me like that. If either Victor or Yuri try that crap with me, I want to drive my fist through their faces."

"You wouldn't dare with me," Otabek hid a smile, "You know I could kick your ass sideways."

Yurio laid his head on his boyfriend's shoulder, "And I'd let you."

"Oh my God!"

"It's Yuri Plisetsky!"

"He's so cute!"

"Oh, God," Yurio turned completely pale, "Beka, get me the hell out of here."

"Come on." Before Yuri's Angels could turn to devils, Otabek threw Yurio on the back of his bike, giving him his extra helmet, and the two of them took off, getting away from the mob of spastic fans. Even though he couldn't stand his mob of fangirls, Yurio didn't mind this part much. He loved the long rides on the back of Otabek's motorcycle. Between the steel between his legs and his face in Otabek's shoulder blades, he wasn't complaining.

"Where are we going?" Yurio wondered, not completely lost in his euphoria.

"I don't know," Otabek kept his eyes on the road, "Where do you want to go?"

"Maybe your hotel room?" Yurio thought out loud, "At least until the crowd dies down?"

"So they know where I'm staying, too?" Otabek shot him down, "No. Try again."

"I don't want to go somewhere public," he pouted, "As much as I hate to say it, we could go to Victor and Yuri's place. It should be empty."

"That's somewhere that's not public," he agreed, "Where do I turn?"

"Up here," Yurio navigated while Otabek buzzed through the streets of Moscow, avoiding the fans, dropping the face shield on Yurio's helmet at the first stoplight.

Once they got to Victor and Yuri's building, they approached with caution. Their entire hall seemed quiet. Yurio knocked on the door, keeping his fingers crossed that no one was going to answer.

Silence.

"Thank God," Yurio sighed out, feeling around the door frame, standing on his toes to reach the top, but failing miserably.

"No one's home?" Otabek assumed, sitting Yurio on his shoulders.

"No," Yurio grabbed the spare key and jumped down, "Thanks."

"You're so small, Yuri," he teased, "When will puberty be good to you?"

"Hey!"

"Only joking," Otabek wrapped his arms around Yurio's shoulders, "You know that."

"You're such an asshole," Yurio pushed through the door and immediately went to the fridge.

"Not the first time you've called me that," Otabek took a barstool, "Probably not the last. And you know I don't like you using language like that, Yuri."

"I'm sorry," Yurio submitted, getting his juice box out of the fridge, "Do you want anything while I'm in here?"

"No," he declined, "I'm fine."

"Wait a minute," Yurio got very nervous very quickly, "Hold on. It wouldn't be the first time I've come over here and Victor and Yuri were home but didn't hear me."

"You're overreacting, Yuri!"

He left his apple juice on the counter and did a quick check of the house. The guest room was empty. The living room was empty. The bathroom was empty. Victor's office was empty. The only room he had left to check was the bedroom and that brought back some very unsettling memories for poor little Yurio. Never did he ever want to see that kind of thing between Victor and Yuri ever again. To this day, Yurio couldn't make prolonged eye contact with either one of them after that day.

"The coast is clear," Yurio jumped onto the counter, his boyfriend stealing a quick kiss from him, "Walking in on Victor and Yuri doing God knows what with each other once is enough for a lifetime. And I thought seeing Yuri grinding on Victor's leg at the post season banquet was bad."

"You poor baby," Otabek grinned darkly, "You know, one day, that's going to be us."

"One of us is going to be drunk out of our minds, grinding on the other's leg?"

"Yuri, Yuri, Yuri," Otabek rolled his eyes, "You have much to learn about the world yet."

"Maybe I should get a good teacher," a dirty little smirk stretched across Yurio's face.

"You wouldn't mind if I took that position?"

"Which position?"

"Maybe you know more about the world than I give you credit for," Otabek pulled Yurio into his lap, "Whatever will I do with you, Yuri?"

"I'm not sure," Yurio nuzzled his face into Otabek's chest, "Although, I could really use a Red Bull, but Victor and Yuri yell at me when I drink energy drinks."

"That's because they're more chemicals than anything," Otabek scolded, lightly swatting him on the nose, "You shouldn't put that in your body."

"But I like those chemicals," Yurio let out a tiny yawn, "They give me power."

"They'll give you cancer in the end," Otabek stood with his little kitten in his arms, "A nap then?"

"Fine," Yurio wasn't going to say no to that. An hour alone in a bed with Otabek? No one would blame him. Otabek laid him gently on the guest bed and crawled in next to him. Like a reflex, Yurio's head went over his boyfriend's heart, the rhythmic beating almost like a lullaby to him. After the long, hard practice this morning and the running from his fans, Yurio was exhausted. At least he had his Beka. When it came down to it, he'd always have his Beka.

Otabek looked down at the sleeping angel in his arms. It really did feel like yesterday when he first met his Yuri. The eyes of a soldier. The good, obedient soldier that could easily best him on the ice. Although Otabek would never know the taste of gold as long as he was going against Yurio, he was perfectly ok with that. As long as it was Yurio that won gold. He wanted to see Yurio go on to great things. And he couldn't be prouder of him.

Soon after Yurio had fallen asleep, Otabek wasn't too far behind him. His flight took more out of him than he thought. With the long night ahead approaching quickly, a nap couldn't hurt. Unfortunately, being so drunk on their own love, neither Yurio or Otabek thought to set an alarm. When Yurio woke up, he rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand. 18:36 in bright red numbers nearly blinded him.

"Otabek," Yurio nudged him, "Beka, wake up."

"Why?" Otabek grumbled, his voice sending chills through Yurio's small frame.

"Because," Yurio felt his pain, "It's six-thirty and I don't want Victor and Yuri catching us. We'd end up on Instagram and you know it."

"That's true," he sat up, "Victor's birthday party..."

"Don't remind me," Yurio cringed, remembering the horrifying events of Phichit finding Yurio's head on Otabek's lap while he scrolled through his phone. The fangirls' comments ranged from disgusting to death threats to Otabek for stealing their Yuri from them.

"I feel like I got hit by a bus," Otabek stretched, cracking his back a few times.

"You sound like bubble wrap," Yurio draped his arms around his shoulders, burying his face in his neck.

"Forgive me," Otabek took his hands, "You said it was six-thirty, right?"

"Yeah."

"We should be going," he agreed, "Since Yuri's Angels have all gone home by now, you think you'd want to come back to my hotel?"

"Sure," Yurio brushed it off while internally screaming. He loved bouncing from hotel to hotel with Otabek. Room service, horrible TV choices that lead to more cuddles like that. What more could Yurio want? The thought was his own private heaven.

"Maybe we could go to the ballroom," Otabek suggested, "Give that rumor a try. I'm sure we know the Machine."

"We do know the Machine," Yurio nodded, "I wonder who the Machine actually is. I've never heard the story. Apparently, it happened long before I was born."

"You could try asking Victor," Otabek pulled him off the bed, "I'm sure he'd know something about it."

"Probably..." Yurio looked down at his feet.

"Is there something on your mind, Yuri?" Otabek worried, "You seem off."

"Something has been bothering me," Yurio admitted, "This morning when I bit the ice, Yakov would've beaten my ass for something like that any other day. But today, he was a sweetheart. Yakov and sweetheart are not two words that work well in the same sentence."

"You're overthinking," Otabek cradled Yurio against his chest.

"And then, there's you," Yurio traced along Otabek's muscle definition with his finger, "You always tell me when you plan on coming here. But you show up out of the blue while I'm in the middle of practice."

"Are you saying I'm what made your jump sloppy?" he jabbed, "Because that was all on you."

"No," he shook it off, "I'm sure you're right. I'm overthinking. But for this all to be happening in the same day? It can't be coincidental."

"Yuri," Otabek kissed the top of his head, a surefire way to get Yurio to shut up, "You are overthinking. You caught Yakov on a rare good day and I like to surprise you once in a while."

"You're right," Yurio let out a heavy sigh, "Will you still love me when I'm paranoid?"

"I love you because you're paranoid," Otabek promised, "I'll meet you downstairs."

"Ok." And just like that, Yurio left Otabek alone in Victor and Yuri's apartment. And Otabek had felt his phone buzzing in his jacket pocket steadily while Yurio was asleep. He just hoped that it wouldn't wake him.

Six missed calls from one. Three from the other. Otabek knew there was a verbal lashing coming his way. Nothing worse than Yuri when he was nervous.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" Yuri screeched in Otabek's ear.

"Hi, Yuri," Otabek winced, "It's nice to hear from you, too."

"You were supposed to have Yurio here an hour ago," he scolded, "Where have you two been?"

"Yours and Victor's apartment," Otabek settled him, "Don't worry."

"Don't worry?" Yuri's tirade continued, "I've been working on this for the past month, Otabek. I had it scheduled down to the last second! You were supposed to keep Yurio distracted for the day while Victor and I set everything up. Now, you tell me you've been with him all day at our place?"

"We dozed off."

"That wasn't part of the plan!"

"Yuri had a hard practice this morning," Otabek growled, "He was tired. My boyfriend's well-being is more important than your schedule."

"Alright," Yuri had a sufficient puddle around his ankles. He didn't like going toe to toe with Otabek like that. He knew that Otabek could swallow him whole. But they both cared deeply for Yurio. Maybe in completely different ways, but they still cared for him, "So, you're on your way then?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "We should be there soon."

"Beka!" Yurio called from down the hall, "You're taking too long!"

"See you soon," Yuri relaxed a bit and hung up.

"I'm coming," Otabek promised, locking the door behind him and putting the key back where it was.

"What took you so long?" Yurio whined, "Five years just went by."

"I had to take a phone call," he shoved him a little, "You lack patience, Yuri. You know that, right?"

"And who did you have to talk to that was so important?"

Otabek started to sweat a little. Yuri's plans had to be kept a secret. For now anyway, "My coach. He's already riding me about next season."

"I know the feeling," Yurio slipped his hand in Otabek's pocket, "I got a week off after Finals. Yakov's exhausting and relentless."

"That's what makes him one of the best," Otabek gave Yurio his helmet, "And with your talent, it's no wonder you won."

"Point twelve, Beka," Yurio got on behind him, laying his head on his boyfriend's back, "Point twelve. If Yuri would've done slightly better than me, I would've gotten silver."

"But he didn't," Otabek shut him up, "Have your gold medal, Yuri, or I'll take it from you next season."

"You wouldn't do that," he nuzzled his face in Otabek's shoulder blades.

"Don't think I couldn't."

"We've had such a good day, Beka," Yurio sighed out, "We can trash talk each other some other time."

"Alright," Otabek let it go and the two of them took off to his hotel. Yurio started to get a little nervous. What if Otabek wanted to do...adult stuff? More than just holding him while he slept? Like the kind of things he censored in his brain because of the one time he walked in on Yuri and Victor? It's not like he'd say no. But Otabek already told him he could if he wasn't ready for it. One day. Maybe not today, but tomorrow.

The two of them pulled up to Otabek's hotel and started heading for the ballroom. Otabek knew exactly what was coming and hoped Yurio wouldn't be too angry with him for keeping it from him. Yurio and surprises didn't mix very well. He loathed them with all his heart. Hopefully, this one wouldn't be too bad.

"Hey, Beka," Yurio wondered, "You said we'd be going to the ballroom, right?"

"We can," Otabek allowed, "If that's alright with you. Remember? We know the Machine."

"That's right," Yurio recalled, "I still have no idea who the Machine is, but whatever. Although, I remember what alcohol did to Yuri. I don't want to get that stupid."

"You won't if you pace yourself," Otabek promised, "How many flutes of champagne did he have that night?"

"Victor said sixteen," Yurio grumbled, "And he lived to tell the tale. Even though he didn't remember."

"You're not him, Yuri," Otabek wrapped his arms around his tiny boyfriend, "You're not going to be so stupid drunk that you're grinding on some strange man's leg. If anyone, it'd be me."

"Thanks," Yurio shoved him, "That's something I want to remember."

"Come on," Otabek led him into the ballroom. Although, something was off. Specifically, all the lights.

"Did this place not pay their light bill or something?" Yurio felt around on the wall and flipped the switch.

"SURPRISE!"

"What the hell?!" Yurio had a slight heart attack. Once he came down enough, he noticed the room was full of his friends and family. Every last one of them.

"Happy birthday, dorogoy (darling)," Otabek kissed his boyfriend's temple, "Forgive me for keeping this a secret."

"You knew about this?" Yurio whined.

"I'm not the one who planned it," Otabek assured, "This wasn't my idea. I was just told to bring you here."

"YURIO!"

"Dammit..." Yurio grumbled under his breath as his two favorite people sandwiched him into a hug he didn't want.

"Happy birthday, Yurio!" Victor squealed in his ear.

"We've been working so hard on this for you!" Yuri sang.

"No one asked you to!" Yurio struggled to get out of it, but that wasn't happening.

"This is how we show our love for you, Yurio!" Victor squeezed him tighter. Although, it could've been him trying to get at his fiancé. Victor wasn't above public displays of affection.

"Give me cake and Otabek's room key," Yurio growled, "And let me go!"

"Really?" Otabek pulled him away from his overly loving parents, "An entire party where you're the center of attention and you're doing to turn that down? Are you not feeling well, Yuri?"

"No," he tried to keep up his fake pouting, but he couldn't keep up the façade anymore. Not with Otabek. Yurio couldn't be happier to be in a room of the people he cared about and the ones that cared about him. He couldn't remember the last time he had a birthday like this, but he wasn't going to complain, "I guess we can stay for a while."

"Yay!" Yuri did a cartwheel. Quite literally.

"How much has Yuri had already, Victor?" Yurio wondered.

"Not a drop," Victor grinned, "And that's the best part."

"It's going to be a long night," Yurio fell into Otabek's arms. And all night, he never left his side. Other than to stuff his face with cake. There was no separating that boy from his cake.

"Yurio!" Phichit ran over to him with his phone in hand, "Let's take a picture!"

"What the hell?" Yurio humored him, getting in frame, "You're tagging me in that, right?"

"Of course!"

"Yurio," Christophe slipped between them, "Are you legal yet?"

"Chris," Otabek's eyes turned black, "No."

"Spoken for," he stepped away, "I understand."

"Thank you," Yurio wrapped his arms around Otabek's waist, ready to call it a night.

"Are you getting tired, kotenok (kitten)?" Otabek cradled him against his chest.

"What have I said about calling me that?" Yurio blushed, "But I am a little beat."

"If you want," Otabek suggested, "We can go up to my room."

"YURIO!" Someone found the booze. He must have known the Machine.

"Oh, God," Yurio rolled his eyes, "Victor! Your boyfriend slipped his leash!"

"Happy birthday, Yurio!" Yuri threw his arms around his adoptive son, "It feels like just yesterday you were driving your foot in my back. You remember that?"

"Kind of want to do that again," Yurio grumbled, "Victor!"

"He went outside," Yuri nuzzled his face in Yurio's shoulder, "Yurio…Aishiteru!"

"Get off me!" Yurio peeled him off his arm, "Who am I supposed to pawn you off on now?"

"Aishiteru, Yurio-chan!"

All of a sudden, a lightbulb went off in Yurio's head. If he didn't have Victor to give Yuri's drunk ass to, he had a backup, "PHICHIT!"

"Hey, Yurio!" Phichit joined them, "Wow, Yuri! How much have you had?"

"Phichit!" Yuri latched onto him, "Have I told you how much I love Yurio today?"

"No," Phichit could see the desperation in Yurio's eyes, "Why don't you tell me?"

Relieved, Yurio sunk back into Otabek, "I'm exhausted. Can we go to your room?"

"Sure," Otabek threw Yurio on his shoulders and carried him back to his room. He laid him onto the bed and the two of them resumed their earlier position, "Yuri…"

"What?" Yurio was ready to fall asleep right then and there.

"Did you have a good birthday?" Otabek cradled him against his chest, "As a whole?"

"Minus Yuri's drunk affection?" he thought it over, "Yeah. It wasn't bad."

"Get some sleep, ok?" Otabek kissed the top of his head, "I know you're tired."

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Of course."

Yurio may not have had a lot of birthdays in his young life, but laying with his boyfriend in his hotel room while all his friends were downstairs? There was nothing he wanted more than to turn off. But life was good. And Yurio fell soundly asleep with a smile on his face.

 **A/N: Happy birthday, Yurio! You are my squish child and I love you. This was so cute. I squealed many times writing this. I'm a sucker for Yurio and Otabek being fluffy and originally, this was supposed to have a healthy dose of everyone, but I liked the way this turned out. So, tonight, we toast to the Ice Tiger of Russia. And to those of you who don't know about the Machine…**

 **I found the story from a Dramatical Murder crack (it's called Aoba Meets the Mafia, if you're going to look for it), but a man named Bert Kreischer, he's a stand-up comedian, accidentally took Russian classes in college and when he got into Russian IV, they went to Russia and he practically became Russian mafia royalty and he was only known as the Machine. The whole story is an absolute roller coaster from beginning to end and I highly recommend it. I can't begin to summarize it. It's crazy. But anyway, happy birthday, Yurio and I'll see you guys later! xx**


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